7 O' Clock
by serendipity-smiles
Summary: This is Lulu's POV... a oneshot... Something I felt I had to write...


One shot- Seven O' Clock

Lulu's POV… Warning this maybe a little too realistic for the faint of heart…

Driving up to the Women's Clinic I close my eyes trying hard not to notice the two protesters at the entrance of the gate holding graphic signs of aborted fetuses. They're angry yells vaguely register as my dad turns of the radio to block out there horrible opinions of my moral character and their disapproval over an action that should have been private… Ironically, I did notice that one of the protesters was a man…

My father whispers words of encouragement and squeezes my hand. Numbly all I can do is nod in answer to his questions… yes, I am ok… yes, I am sure about this decision… no, I can do this by myself…

Giving him a kiss I make a point of not meeting his eyes, afraid to see disappointment or disapproval… or even fear in his eyes. I carefully shut the care door behind me and walk with out looking back to the door of the clinic.

As a security guard checks my I.D. and marks my name off a list. Only when I step through the doorway into the clinic do I allow myself a glance back. My father gives a smile and a thumb's up signal. With another nod, I try to smile, but I think it was more of a grimace… As the sound of the door shutting and the lock clicking into place registers, I realize that I am literally shutting the door of my childhood and becoming a woman in my own right at this very moment.

The empty waiting room is cold and clean. The first word that comes to mind is sterile… it void of any frills, flowers, or colorful splashes of paint. Appropriate considering that is how I feel… cold, completely numb and empty. I can hear noises coming from behind a closed door and I realize that someone just like me… or at least in the same condition as me is doing what I came here to do at that very moment.

A cheerful nurse greets me at the counter. As I fill out all of the necessary paperwork, I can feel my heart thudding in my chest. Out of respect for Dillon, I leave off all information of the father… father… strange that they consider him the father of something so tiny… something that in less than 15 minutes will no longer exist.

With shudder I fill out my medical history and hand the paperwork back to the nurse along with my payment for the procedure, Nikolas had given me the money, and I knew that it was probably one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. But, it showed that no matter what he thought, he supported my decision and stood by me. My heart ached when I thought about my other brother… he had been so angry… so upset about my decision and I wonder now if we will ever be able to forgive each other for the feeling of betrayal that we had caused each other… and my brother and father… would they ever be able to stand in the same room without screaming at each other?

After what seems like hours I am called back to a small room filled with medical gadgets and all I want to do is turn and run from the room screaming. Why had this happened to me? Didn't I have enough loss and pain in my life already?

Another nurse smiles patiently and instructs me to sit down on the table… I am full of questions… luckily she is used to this I guess because one by one she explains the steps we will go through before and after the procedure… I don't have to say a word and I am thankful for that.

Next she takes my blood pressure and then asks the basic questions… when was my last period, how many partners had I had… how did I know I was pregnant… I answer in direct, short and precise comments… no details, not allowing myself to even flinch at necessary invasion of my privacy.

Patting my hand she hands me a paper gown and instructs me to change and when she got back we would do an ultrasound to check and see how far a long exactly I was…

What? I want to scream… an ultrasound? I want to sit down and cry right then and there… an ultrasound was supposed to be a joyous occasion and here I am ending what for me had been a complete nightmare… am I being punished… and if I decided to have kids later on in life would I ever be able to have ultrasounds without remembering this night?

Not allowing myself to freak out, I slip out of my clothes and into the flimsy paper gown. Goose bumps rise on my arms and legs… I'm cold, but a light sweat still breaks out on my body…

When the nurse, this time accompanied by the nurse from the reception desk, comes back in, I am lying on the table… stiff as a board. The smiling nurse, who's name tag says Delilah smiles and holds my hand… for moral support she says, tells me to relax. As the other nurse, Debbie… funny Debbie and Delilah… normally I would be amused but all I can do is swallow the hysterical laughter building up inside of me. I would not lose it! Carefully, Debbie spreads a sheet over my legs, and lifts up my gown telling me that she was going to have to do an internal ultrasound because I am so early in my pregnancy… as if this couldn't' t be anymore embarrassing for me… My legs shaking I place them in the stirrups and hold my breath. Delilah begins to tell me all about this stupid thing she saw on TV and for a moment I focus on her soothing voice and mange to get through the first part… and then Debbie slowly turns a screen towards me asking me if I want to see it… For some morbid reason I can't refuse… and there IT was…

My child… Dillon's child… a tiny life bouncing around inside me. I manage to ask if they can tell if it's a boy or girl, but Debbie says it's too soon to tell. It's only when Delilah wipes my cheeks with a tissue that I realize that I am crying softly. A loud whooshing noise is pointed out to be the heartbeat…

Turning my head away, I ask them to turn the screen away… I am ready I tell them, not allowing myself to soften even the tiniest bit. I had to do this… didn't I? This was the right choice… wasn't it?

After that I was given a tranquilizer and general anesthetic, but everything else was a blear. I remember the doctor coming in… quietly talking to the nurses… did he even say anything to me? All I could do was fight the urge to jump up from the table screaming… it would have been so easy to breakdown right then and there… but, I couldn't… glancing at the clock I realize that it is seven o'clock on the dot… and then it was done… Before I knew it was already 8 o'clock and they were practically shoving me out the door. Funny how you look back an the most important things in your life consist of a few meaningful moments and a whole lot of blurry parts that you thought you would never forget, but for some reason, it's like you just blocked them out.

I manage to get a cab, wishing I could head anywhere, but back to the Quartermaine's, but the sooner I get it over with the sooner I can try and forget…

Whoosh… Whoosh… Whoosh…

The tiny heartbeat is haunting in my head and when I close my eyes all I can see is the black and white screen and the child that was no more…

I will not cry… I will not cry…

Walking into the Quartermaine's Dillon meets me at the door. I manage to look him in the eyes and nod… yes, it was over…

His eyes are glassy and it looks like he has been crying, but instead of anger and yelling… he hugs me… and asks me if I am ok.

Am I? Am I ok, I laugh silently in my head, but manage to say that I am fine… tired, but fine…

Whoosh… Whoosh… Whoosh

My father comes into the main hallway. Worried eyes take in the atmosphere… I let him know that I am fine… Fine… Dillon still hasn't let go of my hand.

Whoosh… Whoosh… Whoosh…

Tracy and Edward walk in and before I realize what has happened both Dillon and my father have stepped in front of me to "protect" me from their reaction…

Whoosh… Whoosh… Whoosh…

Instead of anger I am amazed at how nice they are… how supportive? Have I gone crazy? I refuse their offers of food or drink… I am tired I say… and excusing myself from their sympathetic glances, I ask my father to call Nikolas and let him know I was ok… Ok…

Whoosh… Whoosh… Whoosh… Over and over the heartbeat will not fade…

I shut the door and turn the lock quietly… never turning off the lights I kick off my shoes, and crawl into the bed… I am too tired to feel the slight cramping in abdomen… I am too tired to feel the ache behind my eyelids…

There in the dark, alone I grieve for myself and the child that no longer existed.


End file.
